Punishment
by KateSkirmish
Summary: SmokerXHunter and a brief look into their encounters. Rated mature for later chapters.


A/N: This is a fic is done by request for a prize winner in a contest. I'm only barely familiar with L4D and it's universe, and even less familiar with the fan universe that has been created around it. I'll do my best to keep things IC, but I honestly can't make any promises. Also, I'm not accustomed to writing adult, M+, lemony type slashy things, so please bear with me! Anyway, I think this will come in maybe two or three installments. No promises on regular updates though. XD Enjoy!

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><p>Another mall. Of course. The giant, open building was completely silent except for the occasional random infected wandering by. Two floors over looked the ground level of the mall's atrium, the metal railings being the only thing keeping the braindead, yet still alive beings from straying too far from safety and falling off. But of course not all infected were lifeless zombies like the monsters from movies and comics. Some kept their memories, some kept their feelings. Others kept their bitterness.<p>

A scuffle of feet could be heard, then the oh-so familiar calls of a group of survivors. "Over here!" one yelled. They were casing the place, looking for weapons or rations or both. Though he could clearly see the group of healthy humans running from spot to spot, as if they were all main characters in some first person shooter video game, the Smoker sitting up on the third floor didn't care much. He sat back against a decorative cement planter inhaling his cigarette. Thinking about how much the world has changed (cigarettes used to be quite expensive before you could go place to place looting them), he suppressed a cough. He didn't worry about his survival. Even if he was detected, he was strong enough and skilled enough to take care of the group of survivors, but in his experience it was best not do deal with them if possible. They're a waste, after all. A nuisance. Besides, the last time he ran into a group of survivors, it turned into quite the nasty experience, mostly because of one guy in particular.

Several weeks ago, he had been feeding off some weaker infected. Nutrition from them was iffy at best, but in this new world it was either that or starve. It was then that he spotted a small group of survivors cutting through the park. From his hiding place in the bushes he could tell they looked weak and tired. He could pick off at least one of them, and if not, he was prepared to attack the entire group. He spotted an overturned bus nearby and jumped on top of it for a more strategic position. One of the people in the group was lagging a bit behind, repeatedly jerking his gun left to right and back again. This one had more energy than the rest, but he was an idiot to leave himself in an open area when the rest of the group was moving on. He probably fancied himself quite the macho hero, bringing up the rear and ensuring everyone's safety. What a jackass. Well, it doesn't do anyone any good if you're dead.

With that, the Smoker shot out his tongue and grabbed said jackass by the neck and proceeded to jump into the bus through a broken window, dragging the flailing survivor behind him. In the chaos the human's gun had been dropped as he was thrown to the floor, which was actually the other windowed side of the overturned bus. The Smoker watched as he thrashed, tripped and fell. He hated to see such how pathetic people were when struggling for their lives, but at the same time his bitterness and hatred for what he had become made him watch with sadistic interest. Might as well play with him a bit at this point, right? The survivor weezed and gasped for air as the Smoker wrapped and unwrapped his tongue from around his throat, teasing him with prolonged life. He lifted him in the air and threw him against the seats, watching him land in a heap against one of the broken glass windows that had since been overgrown with grass.

"What? Are you too stupid to kill me, or is this just your way of showing affection?" The snarky comment was cut off when the Smoker's tongue promptly wrapped around his neck, preventing any more air from escaping. The Smoker pulled him up and brought him close. They were face to face, only inches apart. The uninfected looked tense and on edge, but at the same time vicious with glinting eyes like a wild animal. And what was this? He was smiling?

The Smoker contemplated the rash nature of the man before him, but was interrupted when he heard a sharp click. He looked down to see a a gun cocked and aimed directly at his crotch. The survivor pressed it against him, rubbing it around in a perverted, violent fashion. Fuck. He must've grabbed it while being tossed around the bus. He had known it was careless of him to toy with his prey in an enclosed space where he wouldn't be able to keep distance, but he figured this idiot was no real threat. How wrong he had been. Immediately he reeled in his tongue, letting go of the death grip around the man's neck. As he tried to push him away and throw off his aim, the gun went off. A loud blast rand through the bus and the Smoker felt an instant, searing hot flame on his inner thigh, and watched as his surroundings rotated around him. He must've been hit and his legs gave out below him. The human was propelled backwards, both from the shove the Smoker dealt, and by the kickback of the gun. He tried to keep his feet under him, but he was dazed from lack of air and fell back against the bus's steering wheel, hitting his head and the horn.

It was a long, confused minute as both men tried to get their bearings. The survivor somehow gained his wherewithal enough to raise the gun in his hand, and the Smoker had come to enough to understand the situation he was in. Shit. How could things have gotten this bad? He didn't want to die by this fucking survivor's hand in this stinking bus. Steadily and slowly, the two rose to their feet, both of them cautious. The Smoker sneered as the man before him began to grin, then was laughing like a madman. "Not so tough now, are we? I hope you had fun with your little foreplay, because my gun against your dick was the last bit of excitement you'll ever know." He steadied the gun in both hands and lowered his head to eye the sight. It wasn't really necessary at this point blank range, but the Smoker figured he wanted to look like some kind of testosterone pumped, action movie badass. He frowned with disdain and wished he would just get it over with instead.

The survivor proceeded to take a few steps forward, obviously reveling in the upper hand he had gained against his tormentor, but suddenly the bus rocked. The jolt was enough to throw both men off balance and against what used to be the ceiling of the toppled bus. Garbled vocal noises and yells came from outside, along with the sounds of scratching and clawing against metal. The human's eyes went wide as he forgot about the infected directly in front of him. "It's a horde," he whispered with terrified fright. Due to just being shot and swimming through various states of nausea, the Smoker had barely heard the sound of the bus's horn when it had blasted, but apparently plenty of other infected in the area had. It was a lucky break, and not one the Smoker was willing to pass up. He whipped his tongue upwards and pulled himself out of the bus, breaking through one of the windows that had remained intact. He paused, squatting on the bus looking in. From inside, the survivor looked up at him in disbelief and fear. The Smoker smiled down on him. "That's what you get". Then he leaped away to let the mass of mindless infected have their way with the lone survivor inside.


End file.
